America the Beautiful
by Ashe Gardenia
Summary: A mental illness almost always lasts a lifetime. So what happens if you can't die? America has seen so much pain in his life and because of his PTSD he has to relive every moment of it. Whether he was there or not. Trigger warnings are listed inside.


Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Edit: So I edited this a bit from the first publishing. I'm sorry if it is worse but here you go.

 **Trigger warning: While none of these are so bad that I needed to change the warning they still are there. So trigger warnings for: (implied) rape, warfare/war injuries, child abuse, death of child, self injury, and suicide attempt… I'm sorry in advance.**

America the Beautiful

Bang! America jumped and curled more into himself. Another bang sounded, making the house shudder slightly. Tears were streaming down his face as he tried to keep the images away from his mind.

 _He heard the rough screech of metal against metal. Glass shattering on impact as the second plane hit the building._

America whimpered at the images that ripped through his mind's walls.

 _Darkness shrouded the battlefield as he trudged through the cold, slick, mud._

A bang sounded in the distance.

 _He heard the bang and a thud as he watched his friend crumple to the ground next to him. "NO!" he shouted before dropping to his knees in the mud by his friend. He watched as his friend convulsed and choked on his blood on the ground before him. He heard one more shuddering choke before the man's eyes went blank and his body limp. Before he could mourn the man that he had become friends with through the dark times of war another shot rang out. Then another. And another. The shots kept coming as he saw his comrades and friends fall all around him he heard the shouts and the screams. He watched in horror as the only people that had brought him happiness in this war die around him and all in his name._

A scream of agony let loose as he felt the bullets that had plunged into his friends rip into his own flesh.

Bang!

 _The scream from the hallway quickly cut off as the bang sounded. He saw a little kindergartener girl shaking like a leaf as she hid from the shooter. He watched this little girl cry silently, trying not to make a noise like her teacher told her to. She was all alone. She hid in an empty classroom, walls decorated with the pictures drawn in happier times. The school she had been taught her ABCs in and where she was supposed to feel safe in quickly turning into a place of nightmares. America watched in horror as the little girl, hair in pigtails and a frilled dress, spin around, only to face the shooter at the door. The man advanced forward with a blank face until she was backed into a corner crying tears of fright. He watched as the man pulled the trigger without a single emotion displayed on his face._

BANG!

America whimpered before the next image took over, begging them to stop.

 _The shot glass rattled as she slammed it down. She gripped the counter swaying slightly as another was pressed into her free hand. She had always worried that because of her responsible behavior that she would never be considered fun. So when her friend invited her to the party and handed her a drink she forced it down. Now, however, she couldn't see clearly and everything was becoming blurry. She felt a hand on her waist pulling her into on of the house's bedrooms. She tried struggling out of this forceful grip but she was far to weakened by the alcohol to break away. The door closed behind them and she turned her head to catch a glance at her soon to be assailant only to be greeted by a familiar face. It was her supposed "friend" that had brought her here. He smirked as he pushed her to the bed._

Bang!

 _The last gunshot sounded as the smoke cleared the cold, blood soaked battlefield. He watched as a man rush over to a fallen man. "NO! Sammy! Sammy wake up!" The man tried shaking his shoulders but he got no response. America's heart clenched as he looked at the people in front of him. The man in his arms barely looked sixteen. "You can't be dead! I can't go home without out you Sammy. You can't be dead…"America watched the two brothers. One broken and one dead; one wearing blue and one gray._

Bang Bang Bang!

 _Each new boom brought a blow to a small boy as his drunken father loomed over him, his little body quaking from the force of each strike. He was only eight but he couldn't let his little brother get hurt. Even if it destroyed him in the process, he had to protect his little brother from the same fate. His punishment for protecting him was ten fold what his brother's would've been, but it was worth the sacrifice. Each punch broke the little boy even further._

Bang Bang!

 _The little boy was quickly replaced with a teenager being beaten up and bullied. It had gone on for years now until they could only feel the pain. So after they had been left alone, beaten brutally, they went home and pressed a knife into the scarred skin of their wrists._

Bang!

 _He saw the teenager only a year later only this time they had a gun pressed to their head. Tears streaming down their face they whispered their goodbyes._

BANG! The final boom had sounded and America was brought back into reality. He was curled up in a ball in a corner of his room. His chest was still heaving from his sobs that raked through him. Slowly he stood up and stumbled over to his bed. He pulled back the covers and huddled under them. Slowly he stood up and stumbled over to his bed. He pulled back the covers and huddled under them. Tears were still silently streaming down his face before he started to sing, his voice cracking the whole time.

" _Oh say can you see by the dawns early light,_

 _What so proudly we hail at the twilights last gleaming_

 _Whose broad stripes and bright stars_

 _Through the perriless fight_

 _O'er the ramparts we hail are so gallantly streaming_

 _And the rockets red glare,_

 _The bombs bursting in air_

 _Gave proof through the night_

 _That our flag was still there_

 _Oh say does that star spangled banner yet wave_

 _O'er the land of the free_

 _And the home of the brave"_

America leaned over to his lamp.

"Happy Birthday Alfie" he whispered before turning the light off.

 **A/N**

So….yeah. This is the first depressing fic I've ever wrote… I'm now going to go read fluff and happiness. Oh and if your confused about parts feel free to comment or pm me with questions! Please review and tell me what you thought about it. I figured it is teen because even though the subjects are mature I didn't really delve too deep into them but if you think I was wrong please tell me!

~Ashe


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